Something I Need
by teamdemonmonkey
Summary: When Golden Stag Holdings offers a business transaction to Dire Wolf Industries, they can hardly say no. Instead they send their best risk analyst to try and find a way out of it. Sansa Stark expected only to be looking at the books. So what is she going to do when she finds herself distracted by liaison, Tyrion Lannister?The much anticipated modern Tyrion/Sansa.
1. Thistle and Weeds

**Hey guys! **

**So it's here! Finally, right?! I watched the first episode of season 4 (don't worry no spoilers) and figured, what the hell? I should just get to posting and writing. Because Tyrion! Sansa! Together! That's the epitome of perfect (though I did find myself impressed by some of those Sandor/Sansa fics. No judgments. Power to the writers.) **

**The fic title is Something I Need which is the song by OneRepublic. Just love the dynamic of the song. **

**The song title for this chapter is Thistle and Weeds by Mumford and Sons (yeah, that hasn't changed. I will love them always). **

**As always, you can connect with me!  
Twitter: teamdemonmonkey  
Facebook: teamdemonmonkey fanfiction**

**Disclaimer: A modern Sansa and Tyrion fic? Does that mean that copyrights exist now and are mine? No. GRRM knew what he was doing when he claimed them for his own. Clever little bastard.**

Chapter One: Thistle and Weeds

Sansa took a deep breath, willing her thoughts into tidy boxes and straightening her blouse and skirt. She stayed still for a minute and then pushed open the doors to the conference room. At the long, industrial oak table, she saw her brother's best friend and VP of Dire Wolf Industries, Theon Greyjoy, reclined with his feet up on the table, chatting into his Bluetooth. Upon seeing her enter, he said goodbye and ended the call.

"Sansa! Great job on the Dorn account. That was a great catch you made. Definitely one for the record books." She smiled and waved him off, taking a seat across the table from him.

"It wasn't so difficult. They were a bit anxious about the merger so I just did what I do best. It was a simple matter of crunching numbers." He shook his head.

"You should take more credit than that. You sealed a deal that your bother himself was going to lose. Uncle Robert will no doubt call you himself to congratulate you." She shifted uncomfortably.

"I highly doubt that. Uncle Robert doesn't seem to have time for much of anything… professional lately." Theon laughed heartily but Sansa felt her stomach turn. She had a bad feeling about this meeting.

"What in the hell is so funny?" Sansa turned happily to the sound of her big brother's voice and smiled in relief. As far as big brothers went, Sansa had gotten lucky with Robb. He respected her and didn't use nepotism to staff his company. He came in, handsome in his Armani suit, and hugged her tightly around the shoulders. "Great job with Dorn, Sansa. Dad was really impressed."

"Thanks, Robb. Should we get down to business?" Robb rolled his eyes at her and then sat down.

"You better not start without me," Sansa's mother said from the doorway, sharp as ever in her business suit.

"Of course not, Mother. Have a seat." Robb seemed annoyed and on edge about their mother's presence. Catelyn sat down next to Sansa and grabbed her hand fondly. Sansa smiled at her mother.

"Okay, down to business. Father called this morning and told me that Golden Stag is going to make an offer to buy out our stock in Valeryian Steel. He doesn't like it but I guess Uncle Robert is pushing it on him. So he wants us to continue as usual while looking out for any reason to back out of this."

"Okay, I guess I can start going over their financials today," Sansa said, confused about why Robb was telling her this in a private meeting with only his VP and their mother present. It was a kind of assignment she'd get at the weekly board meeting.

"Uncle Robert," Robb said, jaw tight and eyes hard, "has requested that you spend your time at Golden Stag to do all your necessary work. Father didn't say too much but I guess he thinks that Robert's got some crazy idea about you going and working for them when they buy out Dragon Stone." Sansa's blood ran cold.

"No," Catelyn said. "Absolutely not. I know what it's like over there. Robert's got his self brat of a son, Joffrey, running things and has absolutely no control over anything that goes on there. His wife, Cersei, allows him to run wild. There have been more job terminations and harassment suits against that boy in one month than all the other companies in Westeros Worldwide combined. That includes his depraved uncle, and we both know he's a walking sexual harassment. She won't go there. She's worked too hard for too long to be torn down and bullied by the Lannisters and the Baratheons."

"Mother, you know that I would love to keep Sansa here and tell Joffrey and Cersei Baratheon to shove this transaction up their asses, but Father made it perfectly clear that Robert isn't giving on this. We have to at least play along for now until we can find a legitimate reason to refuse. We can't fight the entire company. Cersei's father is the CEO of Lionheart Incorporated and he and Cersei provide the most business to Night's Watch Security. To anger one of them is to anger all of them. It's a political nightmare. We have to send Sansa to Golden Stag for the time being. There is no other choice."

"I don't like this," Catelyn repeated. Sansa shook herself from her miserable thoughts and squared her shoulders.

"That doesn't matter. I'm going." Catelyn made to protest but Sansa silenced her. "No. I'm a professional. This is my job. When the CEO of your parent company assigns you something, you do it. Now that being said, I am going to do everything in my power to find a way out of this transaction. The Lannisters are tied with us for holding most shares in Valeryian Steel. If Golden Stag gets it, that would mean the Lannisters control the majority of the company and that is unacceptable. We helped build that company up; we are not going to feed it to insatiable lions who don't care about the jobs or the people." Robb nodded proudly and Catelyn stared at her silently.

"I'll send their HR department all the paperwork. Take the week off. You don't need to be there before Monday. They can wait that long to have you. But you let me know if anything unprofessional happens, anything at all."

"I will, Robb. I'm a professional. No, I'm _the_ professional. I won't let Joffrey Baratheon or Cersei Lannister dig their claws into us that easily. I'm a Stark, after all." She laughed half heartedly and then stood, gathering her briefcase and nodding to her family and Theon. She walked out of the conference room confidently, listening to her mother argue with Robb again before closing the doors, climbing into her car and finally breaking down against the cold leather of the steering wheel.

She knew she wasn't coming back from Golden Stag. She would do everything she could to find illegitimacies –she'd suspected someone in the company of fraud for years –but she had heard the stories from other companies under Westeros Worldwide. They had lost people, good people, to Golden Stag Holdings and Lionheart Incorporated without so much as a goodbye or thank you. The Lannisters were a major share holder in the company and Robert had married into that family with the intent to build an even stronger, better , more powerful company. Now he spent his time sleeping around, golfing and drinking. And the golfing was only when there was someone there to impress. He hadn't been involved in the actual running of the company in years. Her father, Ned, was left with task, attempting to keep everyone civil and things to run smoothly. Sansa had no doubt that this new transaction was an idea of Cersei's –or her father's passed through her –whispered into Robert's ear when he was past inebriated or annoyed to the point of doing whatever she said just to stop her nagging.

One thing Sansa knew for sure was that she wouldn't join the faceless mass of people who had been torn apart thanks to the Lannisters. She was putting her foot down and taking a stand. She was one of the most reputable risk analysts in the country. If her Uncle couldn't respect that then she would find a company who could.

With that thought she pulled out into traffic and headed to her loft to curl up in front of the television with a bottle of wine and some tissues.


	2. Bad Blood

**Chapter Two! Woohoo! Amazed as usual by the response to this story. I knew I was making ya'll wait but it's been phenomenal. **

**So let's meet Tyrion shall we?**

**The song for this chapter is Bad Blood by Bastille. Can't you just see this in movie form and Tyrion coming into the office like this?!**

**As always, you can connect with me!****  
****Twitter: teamdemonmonkey****  
****Facebook: teamdemonmonkey fanfiction**

**Disclaimer: A modern Sansa and Tyrion fic? Does that mean that copyrights exist now and are mine? No. GRRM knew what he was doing when he claimed them for his own. Clever little bastard.**

Chapter Two: Bad Blood

Hell. Sansa was in pure, unadulterated Hell.

She watched in silence as members of Golden Stag Holdings wandered into the conference room, waiting in awkward silence for them to begin while the CEO, Joffrey, watched her with a predatory grin. He oozed slime and charm equally and even if she hadn't already been warned away from him, she wouldn't have liked him anyways. So she sat awkwardly, only smiling when Joffrey's VP, Loras Tyrell, came in. Loras's younger sister, Margaery, was her best friend since getting a job in Westeros Worldwide. That was the only time she wasn't completely uncomfortable with sitting at the long table, feeling like an outsider and a piece of meat. Joffrey kept shooting her suggestive glances and she could feel the light breakfast she had forced down trying to come back up.

Once all the chairs at the table were filled, she looked to the head of the table where Joffrey was sitting impatiently. She looked around as people murmured to their neighbors wondering what they were waiting on. Finally the doors burst open and she turned, biting back her surprise.

The man standing in the doorway was literally not who she had been expecting. His short frame looked bone tired. His suit was crumpled, like it had spent all night on the floor and then got put back on. His eyes were obscured by sunglasses and his hair was a raging case of bed head. He staggered over to a chair across from Sansa and climbed onto it tiredly, sighing when he was finally settled.

"Now that the Great Disappointment is here, we can get started. I'd like to first welcome Sansa Stark," Joffrey said, gesturing to Sansa. "She's a risk analyst from Wolf. She's here to do her work for the Valeryian buyout. Hopefully we can make a good impression on her. We don't want this one to get away." Everyone laughed awkwardly as Sansa sat, cheeks reddening with humiliation and anger. Had he really just suggested that she was going to stay at Stag after the buyout? And to mention the buyout as though the deal was already done, the stocks already purchased!

"I'm not sure whether your expression means that I should welcome you to the company or tell you to run while you can," the late man across from her mumbled quietly. She turned her eyes to his face and saw that he had removed the sunglasses. His eyes were blue and oddly kind. The right side of his face revealed a slight scar running from his cheek to above his eyebrow. She wasn't sure who he was or what his intentions were but she decided to play it safe.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," she whispered politely.

"Please. My nephew basically just announced to all the important people in the company that you'll be one of our new employees after we buy out your family's shares in a company you built from the ground up. If that's good news, then welcome; stick around. If that sounds like the most horrific thing you've ever heard, I would suggest you stand up and leave this meeting and never come back. He will still buy you out but at least you won't be stuck here." He stared at her appraisingly. "Unless you're here because Joff's father demanded it." Her mouth twitched with a frown. "Ah, I see now. 'Uncle Robert' wants this transaction to take place. And he wants you here at Stag, not at Wolf. He's attempting to match make one of your families greatest assets to his son's company."

"I am here to assess the risks and benefits of this transaction. I am going to do my work and then go back to my company. Meanwhile, you will continue to come in to meetings late and not pay attention. I'm surprised you still have a job."

"It's hard to fire someone who isn't under your employ," he said languidly. She frowned. "Dear little Joffrey there is my nephew. I'm Tyrion Lannister. I'm the liaison for Lionheart. So he can't fire me. As much as he and my sister wish they could." Sansa sat back, shocked by the candor that this man was offering her in a room full of people who seemed too scared to say anything. She was offended by his complete lack of caring. He couldn't even be bothered to show up for his job in clean clothes.

"Imp," Joff's voice called from down the table. "Would you care to stop trying to pick up a woman completely out of your league and tell us about what is going on at my grandfather's company?" Tyrion sighed and sat back, rattling off names and numbers while Sansa studiously avoided eye contact with everyone.

The meeting ended an hour and a half later and Sansa stood awkwardly, waiting outside the room for someone to show her where her workspace was. People walked past her, some throwing her curious looks while others avoided her completely.

"So are we looking at Golden Stag's brand new risk analyst," a voice murmured in her ear. She turned in relief.

"Margaery," she sighed gratefully. "No. I'm not. Though Tyrion Lannister tried to convince me to give up now."

"Actually, I believe I told you to run for the hills," he said, exiting the conference room, eyes locked on a folder in his hands.

"Good morning, Tyrion. How was the benefit last night?" He looked up and smiled charmingly at Margaery.

"It was good. I saw that you left early." She laughed charmingly.

"Yes. Grandmother became rather bored. I think it was the clowns." Tyrion laughed.

"Yes, my sister doesn't always understand that clowns are disgustingly terrifying. That and the people coming to the fundraiser were over the age of three," Tyrion said cynically. "Now how do you know this charming woman here," he asked, gesturing to Sansa.

"We've been friends since college. Our last semester, senior year, we had a business class together."

"Interesting. Well, Sansa, if you need anything at all, come find me." He walked away and Margaery turned to Sansa, her brow raised.

"Shall we go to lunch," she offered innocently.

"So what's going on between you and Tyrion Lannister," Margaery asked later, seated in Sansa's office chair.

"Nothing. I met him this morning."

"Oh don't think that I didn't notice the tension between you two. He was being all charming and you stood there like a statue!"

"He is absolutely unprofessional! He showed up late. His clothes are in a horrible state. He said that they can't fire him so he can do whatever he wants. I've never met someone whose risk so greatly outweighs their benefits."

"Really, Sansa? Analyst jargon." Margaery's eyes were not amused.

"It's true. He is the worst employee I've ever seen. I can't believe that they allow him to stay."

"You shouldn't discount him so quickly. He's fiercely loyal," Margaery defended.

"He kissed three different women at lunch," Sansa deadpanned. Margaery laughed.

"Yes. It must be an off day for him," Margaery mused. Sansa's eyes widened comically and Margaery burst out laughing.

"That was not funny," she told Margaery.

"I think it's intriguing that you take so much interest in how unprofessional he is. Actually, I think it's interesting that you have already done risk assessments on him. You usually don't unless you're interested in someone."

"He… is… an employee," Sansa defended. "He is part of this transaction. Therefore, I have to do an assessment on him the same way I would any employee here."

"Mmmhmmm," Margaery agreed sarcastically. Sansa huffed and threw a stress toy at her. "Okay, okay, I'm going. I have a meeting with Grandmother in a half hour and I'm not going to stick around so you can throw things at me for being right about _Tyrion_," she teased and Sansa shook her head, keeping her eyes focused on her computer.

She was most definitely _not_ intrigued by Tyrion Lannister.

At all.


	3. Get Lucky

**So this chapter was a little weird. I had a hard time picking a song and then I wasn't sure where it was going. **

**The song is Get Lucky by Daft Punk. This is a suitable song to play at a bar while friends share secrets, right?**

**As always, you can connect with me!****  
****Twitter: teamdemonmonkey****  
****Facebook: teamdemonmonkey fanfiction**

**Disclaimer: A modern Sansa and Tyrion fic? Does that mean that copyrights exist now and are mine? No. GRRM knew what he was doing when he claimed them for his own. Clever little bastard.**

Chapter Three: Get Lucky

"Congratulations on surviving the Stag for a whole week," Margaery exclaimed, raising her margarita glass in toast. Sansa laughed and raised her white wine to clink it against her friend's.

"It wasn't too bad," Sansa confessed. "Joffrey was too distracted by the merger with Oberyn to really give me any attention. Although Cersei dropped in to hint –not too subtly, I might add –that I was going to be a permanent addition to the GSH family. That was terrifying. She's like some sort of predator, trying to sink her claws into me."

"Cersei is a real piece of work. But wouldn't you be if your daddy was one of the most powerful men in the business world, had trained you in all things related to the running of the company and then refused to let you inherit? When Tywin Lannister announced that he was leaving Jaime the company, I thought Cersei was going to murder him on the spot." She took a healthy gulp of her drink.

"Well, I'm going to steer clear of her. She looks at me like I'm what's for dinner." Sansa shuddered and Margaery giggled.

"And what about her brother," Margaery asked with an exaggerated eye brow lift. The margarita was kicking in.

"If you're referring to Tyrion, my opinion remains the same. He is irresponsible, unprofessional, inappropriate and presumptuous."

"Inappropriate? You_ must_ be talking about me," a voice said behind her. She turned and grinned, flinging herself into the strong arms of the man behind her.

"Renly, you don't give yourself enough credit," Margaery teased. Renly laughed, releasing Sansa.

"You've grown since last I saw you," he exclaimed.

"You still look the same. How was Los Angeles? Did you dine with the stars and break hearts?" Renly snorted.

"Hardly. Though six months in the sun has improved my tan."

"Why don't you tell her about your date with Kate Moss," Loras said, coming behind Renly. "She spent all evening trying to convince him to go straight."

"Hardly, darling. I gave her lips for her fashion line."

"What are you two doing here," Sansa asked, gesturing for them to sit.

"We have dinner reservations in an hour," Loras explained. "But enough about us. Tell us how your first week was at my company."

"Fine. Although…"

"What," Renly asked, eager for any gossip she could provide.

"I keep feeling…suspicious. There are obvious inconsistencies and cover ups but whoever did it is too good to leave anything that would lead to getting caught. As soon as I think I've figured it out, it slips away."

"Good luck trying to find it, Sansa. We've gone through four CFOs when they got too inquisitive into the company."

"It's not right," Sansa said.

"Never mind the business talk," Margaery complained. "Tell them about your new fan."

"What's this," Renly asked curiously. "I thought you were too busy to date?"

"I am. Margaery's exaggerating."

"I am not! It's Tyrion Lannister," she told her brother and brother-in-law dramatically.

"It is not. I find him annoying and infuriating."

"Not to mention everyone in his family are world class worms," Loras added. "Well, Jaime's not too bad."

"It doesn't matter. I am not attracted to him."

"She thinks he's a conundrum," Margaery stage whispered.

"Will you shut up," Sansa said through a laugh, pushing at her friend. "He made it a point to talk to me every single day this week," she explained to the men. "He'd ask how I was doing or just to let me know what the cafeteria was serving. It was awkward. I'm here to work. I'm not here to make friends. And I'm definitely not here to be hit on by a man who got caught sneaking four women out of his office during his lunch hour." Renly roared with laughter while Loras slapped his knee, trying to catch his breath. "What is so funny?"

"Oh Sansa, hasn't anyone told you about Tyrion Lannister," Loras wheezed.

"What about him?"

"His father never really got on board with the reality that his son was a dwarf. It doesn't matter that Tyrion is twice the man his grandson is, let alone anyone else he considers 'esteemed'. Anyways, Tyrion always got the crap position in the company. He would rise above that and make it better. Finally, his mother convinced Tywin to let him be Lionheart's liaison at GSH. It was supposed to make up for the fact that Joanna couldn't stop Tywin from paying Tyrion's wife to divorce him. But what really makes up for that?"

"Wait, Tywin Lannister paid Tyrion's wife to divorce him?"

"Yeah. He didn't approve of her… former profession."

"Which was?"

"She was a Vegas showgirl," Renly said seriously. "You can imagine how Daddy Lannister felt about that. Ever since then, Tyrion gets a lot of visits from her former colleagues. They like him, try to keep him updated on what she's doing. It's been years since that happened but poor Tyrion hasn't ever gotten over it."

"So he's not sleeping with a boat load of women at the office?"

"Not at all. But there's very little his job requires him to do. It leaves plenty of time for the mind to wander. This is probably why he's taken such an interest in you. Someone has to be there for you and no one's got as much time as him." Sansa reconsidered her impression of the man. She'd had all of one conversation with the man and assumed that she knew everything about him. He had warned her that the company she was at was poison, to run. He'd made an effort, gone out of his way even, to make her feel like she had someone to turn to for help or support. He'd been courteous and friendly to her and she felt ashamed for treating him coldly. She had judged him without giving him the opportunity to make a good first impression. Had she been so determined not to like anyone on her first day that she had really seen only bad qualities in the one person attempting to be her friend?

"I think I've misjudged him," she muttered while Margaery laughed and Renly and Loras shared knowing smiles.

It seemed there was more to Tyrion Lannister than she had thought.


	4. Demons

**You know after that last chapter, things are sorta just starting to fall into place. No more plot confusion!**

**The song for this chapter is Demons by Imagine Dragons. I used the cover by Tyler Ward and Kina Grannis. Check them out. I'm seeing Tyler in a couple months!**

**As always, you can connect with me!****  
****Twitter: teamdemonmonkey****  
****Facebook: teamdemonmonkey fanfiction**

**Disclaimer: A modern Sansa and Tyrion fic? Does that mean that copyrights exist now and are mine? No. GRRM knew what he was doing when he claimed them for his own. Clever little bastard.**

Chapter Four: Demons

Sansa hesitated outside the office door, wringing her hands nervously. What if all her cold civility had burned the bridges Tyrion had been trying to build? A person could only stand so much blatant rejection.

"Sansa, stop," she breathed to herself sharply. She squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and knocked on the oak door.

"Come in," Tyrion's tired voice called out. She pushed the door open slowly. Tyrion was typing on his computer. She waited nervously before he looked up. His eyes went wide with surprise.

"Sansa?"

"Sorry for bothering you. You're busy. I'll –I'll just go," she said, courage fleeing her.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said quickly. "Come have a seat," he offered, gesturing to a seat across from his. She hesitated then closed the door and sat down across from him, smoothing her skirt nervously. "What can I do for you," he asked. She could still see some surprise in the lines on his face.

"I… um… well, I…" She felt herself growing warm with embarrassment. This was stupid. He didn't care what she thought of him. He was a grown adult.

"Sansa, have you come to tell me that you've murdered my mother and buried her body in the woods?" His voice was serious but his eyes betrayed the signature twinkle of amusement.

"No," she said horrified and confused.

"Then I can't imagine anything you say that would be as horrible as that."

Sansa stared at him and then laughed quietly. "You're right," she said, tension draining from her like water in her cupped hands.

"Now, what can I do for you?"

"I wanted to thank you for everything. You've been especially kind to me and I know that I seemed… cold last week but I genuinely appreciate the effort." Tyrion stared at her, brow furrowed slightly.

"Someone told you about me ex-wife, didn't they," he finally muttered. It was a question but he said it like he already knew the answer.

"Yes," Sansa admitted. He nodded silently.

"Sansa, I was kind to you because my mother raised me to be polite and generous. But I don't need you to reciprocate out of pity." They sat in awkward silence for a few moments.

"I've only ever dated one boy," Sansa said suddenly, breaking the tense silence.

"What?" Tyrion had no idea what this had to do with anything.

"In high school I dated this boy. He was a good kid. His father died when he was little, leaving his mother with nothing. He wanted to make something of himself. When we would go on dates, we'd spend more time with my father or brothers than we did alone. For prom, I was ready a half hour early but we were an hour late because he was involved in a conversation with my dad about stock trends. When I ended things between us, I think he was more devastated that I'd ruined his chances at joining the company than losing me." She stared at her lap, trying to dispel the ghosts of her first love. "I loved him but I was just a name, a connection to him."

"I'm sorry," Tyrion said quietly.

"I'm not looking for your sympathy. I'm saying that I understand what it's like to have someone who is supposed to love you place money or family ahead of loyalty to you. And I'm not being nice out of pity. I'm appalled at my judgmental behavior towards you. I believe everyone should have a chance to make a good impression and I didn't allow you that courtesy. So I apologize." He stared at her mesmerized.

"Sansa Stark, I do believe you may survive us yet," he murmured. She blushed and he found himself endeared by the reaction. "Does this mean we are friends?"

"Yes," she said happily. "I guess I owe Margaery an apology to. She insisted that you were a good man and I refused to believe that."

"You talk about me with your friends," he asked suggestively. Sansa flushed and hurriedly stood from her seat.

"I'm going to go now," she said, backing towards the door. "I have reports to… read." She left the office, Tyrion's warm laughter following her out.

~~~~SIN~~~~~

"How do you like my company," Joff's grating voice asked from behind Sansa.

"It's –it's a great company," Sansa said quickly, covering up her research.

"My father is very proud," he said boredly. "My grandfather expects that we will be in Forbes again this month," he boasted.

"That's wonderful news," Sansa said politely.

"I'll be sure to mention you in the interview. We like to brag about our valuable… _acquisitions_," he oozed, eyes trailing over her and voice laden with innuendo. Sansa felt her stomach turn and the great need to shower. Twice.

"Sansa, please forgive me for being so late. I got caught on a phone call," Tyrion said hastily, placing his try on the table next to hers. She glanced at him, surprised.

"That's all right. Joffrey was just telling me about the company," she offered weakly.

"I didn't realize you had a lunch date," Joff said icily.

"Just helping Sansa get a better idea of the company. For her assessment," Tyrion said offhandedly. "Cersei is looking for you."

"Mother is always looking for me," he whined.

"She said something about a complaint from the Martell's." Joff flushed and hurried away.

"Thank you," Sansa said fervently.

"Always pleased to thwart the disgusting attentions of my nephew."

"Is he always so…"

"Disgusting? Sleazy? Presumptuous?"

"Something like that," Sansa admitted with a smile.

"Yes. The product of being the spoiled son and grandson of two of the most powerful men in the business world. Let's change the subject. He makes me want to vomit. What is your family like?"

'Big. Robb is the oldest. He's married. Jon is my half brother. He's the head of Night's Watch. Then there's me. Not much to say there. Arya is just about to graduate from high school. Brandon is just starting high school and Rickon is ten. We're pretty quiet people. Family dinners aren't anything to get excited about except we're all very close."

"That must be nice," Tyrion mused. "My family is insane. My father is cold and focused completely on business and the family name. My mother is the exact opposite. She's warm and loving, the kind of mom that bakes cookies and hugs you even if you've done something terrible. Cersei and Jaime are twins but Cersei is just like my father. Jaime is quiet and observant but he's always been underestimated. He's a force to be reckoned with. Then there's me. Not much to talk about."

"That's not true. I'm sure there's quite a lot to say."

"Not much good," he acquiesced.

"I don't believe it. Margaery mentioned a benefit the day we met. What was that for?"

"That was merely a diabetes benefit. Not anything noble."

"Rickon is a diabetic. Type one. So I think benefitting research is a very noble act."

"My dear Sansa," he murmured, "you really are determined to see the best in people."

"I see good where it exists. I'm not making your actions appear grander than they are. I merely offer an alternate point of view." He stared at her, eyes alight and a small smile playing at his lips.

"Beautiful, eloquent, articulate and wise. Is there any chance you are merely a figment of my imagination, conjured out of loneliness?" She blushed furiously.

"If you have imagined me then I fear your mind must be a poor, deprived place."

"Now who's selling herself short," he teased. But she offered a valid point; even he couldn't have imagined someone as perfect as she was.


	5. Don't Fence Me In

**You patient little dears. Thank you for waiting on me. Life has been a bit hectic and I've not really been in the mood to write much of anything at all. But then the clouds cleared and I got such great ideas.**

**So you will all be the first to know… after Something I Need is finished, I have plans to do a period Sanrion fic. I won't say too much this far from when it's coming, but essentially imagine Sansa and Tyrion during World War II. Yeah, that. **

**The song for this chapter is Don't Fence Me In by the Andrew Sisters and Bing Crosby (who is my relative, btw). I love them and it seemed fitting for the atmosphere set in this chapter.**

**As always, you can connect with me!****  
****Twitter: teamdemonmonkey****  
****Facebook: teamdemonmonkey fanfiction**

**Disclaimer: A modern Sansa and Tyrion fic? Does that mean that copyrights exist now and are mine? No. GRRM knew what he was doing when he claimed them for his own. Clever little bastard.**

Chapter Five: Don't Fence Me In

"So let me get this straight," Tyrion said seriously. He gazed solemnly into Sansa's amused eyes. "You've really never seen a Cary Grant movie?"

"Never. I don't know that is," she admitted.

"Sansa, we must remedy this immediately! Cary Grant is a legend, an icon. He was the man all women wanted, the man every other man wanted to be. He is one of the most talented and influential actors to ever grace the silver screen!"

"I don't watch old movies. I'm a Disney girl, completely. Ask me something like that."

"Disney is nothing. Every child grows up with Disney. _I_ grew up with Disney. Cary Grant is class; he's sophistication. Cary Grant could make watching paint dry entertaining."

"Okay, okay. What do you suggest we do to remedy this _travesty_," she teased.

"Movie night, my apartment. I'm going to introduced you to the finer things in life."

"Fine. Eight too late?"

"Let's make it seven. We wouldn't want you turning into a pumpkin," he replied with a wink. Sansa laughed and then checked her watch.

"Ugh, time to head back up," she said. He sighed wearily.

"One of these days, we're going to get away with a three hour lunch."

"Not today," she teased.

"Fine. I'll see you at seven."

~~~~~~~SIN~~~~~~

"So, it's a date," Margaery asked in confusion.

"No. We're just watching a movie. Apparently, the fact that I don't know who Cary Grant is seems to be a blight on humanity."

"You're going over to his apartment to watch a movie," she said skeptically.

"Yes. How many times do I have to tell you? Tyrion and I are just friends. You keep pushing for us to hook up but we're not going to."

"Whatever, Sansa, Tyrion is totally into you."

"Seven hells, Margaery," Sansa said in exasperation, using their old college joke about Dante. "You are so convinced that Tyrion and I should be together. Why?" Margaery's face sobered.

"Because he's fun. And you need fun. Don't argue; just listen. You're a risk analyst. Your job is to assess situations like mergers and transactions and calculate the risks versus the benefits of a situation. But it isn't just work for you. It's your life. You rented this apartment after assessing it compared to buying a house and finding that a house was too risky. You won't date a man unless he scores a ninety percent chance of success on your analysis. You are so control of everything in your life."

"Exactly. So why in the seven hells would I date Tyrion Lannister?"

"You wouldn't! That's exactly it! Tyrion is nothing like the men you usually date. But Tyrion can bring so much to the table. He's spontaneous and fun. He's witty and sarcastic. He's openly inappropriate."

"He's a dwarf."

"Don't be the girl, Sansa," Margaery teased. "We both know that physical attraction means next to nothing if you aren't stimulated by his intelligence. Tyrion compliments you."

"We're still not dating," Sansa said petulantly.

"Tell me that after this 'movie night'. No hurry! You'll be late!"

~~~~~~SIN~~~~~~~

Sansa knocked on Tyrion's door after his doorman, Bronn, let her up. She heard some shuffling and then the door opened, revealing Tyrion. She smiled fondly at him. They'd only seen each other a handful of times outside of work and she was still thrown by Casual Tyrion. He was wearing a red t-shirt and jeans. She noticed that his arms, though short, were surprisingly toned. His hair was in its usual disarray.

"Sansa, welcome. Come in. I've got the movie cued up in the den. Dinner is almost done. Just make yourself comfortable." He led her down the hall to the kitchen. Just past the bar, she could see a DVD menu on Tyrion's ridiculously huge television.

"Your tv is huge," she commented blankly.

"Yes. Jaime asked if I was compensating for something."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him yes. I said it was to make up for such awful siblings," he said with an impish grin. Sansa giggled. "No in all honesty, it doesn't get used nearly enough. I am much more of a reader."

"And yet, I see no bookshelves," she teased. He turned around and stared at her, offended.

"Come with me, my silly Sansa," he said taking her hand and leading her down a different hallway off the living room. She passed a bathroom and a bedroom. She peered into it in passing and only caught a large bed and lots of browns. He pushed open another door and ushered her inside.

"Oh my…" she breathed. The thirteen foot high walls were covered in bookshelves, filled with books. The room was full of the magical scent of paper, ink and glue. "I take it back," she mumbled. He chuckled from the doorway, relaxed against the frame, smirking.

"It's supposed to be the master bedroom. I don't understand why. I take so very little space to sleep. But my books… one should have a room that does not limit their ability to get lost in an adventure."

"There's so many! Is this really a first edition Dostoyevsky?" Her eyes were bright with excitement as she gestured to the delicate leather bound book in her hand.

"Yes. Took me years to find that," he admitted. "You like Dostoyevsky?"

"Of course. Do you have Dante? Milton?"

"Of course," he teased. "As much as I would love to spend the entire night losing myself in the library with you, dinner is ready. But you may come here any time you like." She reluctantly followed him back to the kitchen.

"Oh, I brought wine," she said, pulling the bottle of red wine from her discarded purse.

"Why, Sansa, are you trying to get me inebriated and then take advantage of my easy morals?"

"Easy morals," she scoffed. "You don't have _any_ morals." He made to argue the shrugged.

"That's fair. How about we eat?" He grabbed some plates and climbed onto a barstool, pulling the lid off of a heavy iron pot. Steam billowed forth accompanied by a mouthwatering aroma.

"Tyrion, it smells delicious. What is it?"

"_Boeuf bourguignon. _Julia Childs' boeuf bourguignon."

"Well, it smells fantastic." She held the plates out and she dished some of the succulent roast onto them. Next he dished up some salad and a roll. She carried them to the coffee table and he followed with two wine glasses and the bottle she'd brought.

"Father Goose," she asked curiously.

"I figured I would begin your education with a comedy. It also happens to be a personal favorite of mine." He climbed onto the couch next to her and poured them both a generous serving of wine. Once they were settled, he pressed play on his remote. Sansa watched interestedly as the old movie music began to play. Tyrion dug into his food, eyes travelling between the tv and his companion. Her laughter was like sparkling champagne, filling his body with warm tingles. He found himself enjoying her response to the movie far more than the movie itself. She seemed to relate with Leslie Caron's character the most and that made absolute sense to him. Katherine Freno was cool headed, pragmatic, organized and proper. But Tyrion had always loved the balance she brought to the spontaneous, sarcastic, messy, Walter Eckland. If Tyrion found himself drawing parallels, he kept it to himself. When the movie ended –far sooner than normal in his opinion, –Sansa collapsed back against the couch.

"That was wonderful1 I can't believe I've never seen this before! It was so funny!"

"I'm glad you like it, Goody Two Shoes," he teased, using the nickname from the movie.

"If I'm Goody Two Shoes, that makes you the Filthy Beast," she said approvingly.

"That's fair. I am a foul mouthed, drunken, Filthy Beast," he agreed. I had a boat like that once, too."

"The launch?"

"No the dingy," he said deadpan and Sansa found herself giggling helplessly at the image of Tyrion in a tiny dink.

"What happened to it?" He assumed a woeful air.

"It suffered at the hands of my sister's own boat. I'm still not convinced she didn't sink it on purpose."

"Probably." Sansa had only met Cersei at company functions but she'd never taken a strong liking to the hateful, scheming woman.

"So are you a Cary Grant fan now," Tyrion inquired.

"Yes! I will have to find all of them and watch them."

"You know,  
Tyrion said, voice hesitant and a faint blush tingeing his cheeks and neck pink, "I have all his movies. We could just make this a regular thing." He sounded so nervous that Sansa had to bite back laughter.

"I would like that," she said sincerely. His face lit up with excitement.

"Really? Great!"

"I should get going now though. I promised my parents I would be to brunch tomorrow."

"Okay. Thanks so much for this, Sansa. I really enjoyed myself."

"Thank you, Tyrion. The meal was wonderful and the movie was just delightful."

"It was nothing. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," he said casually, walking her down the hall to the door. "Same time next week?"

"Absolutely!"

"Okay, then. Goodnight, Goody Two Shoes."

"Goodnight, you Filthy Beast." Sansa left, feeling warmth spreading in her chest that had nothing to do with the wine.

**So what did you think? Was it a date or was Sansa right about it just being movie night? I tell you if a man had a room like that just for his books, I wouldn't care if he was missing his nose (which you know, in the books, he was). Books trumps everything!**


	6. Your Song

**Okay, little doves, here is the next installment. Sorry for the end in advance. It's just SO late and I have to be up in three hours. **

**The song for this chapter is Your Song by Ellie Goulding. I love her version. She's got a nice voice.**

**As always, you can connect with me! And now on Tumblr too! ****  
****Twitter: teamdemonmonkey****  
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**Disclaimer: A modern Sansa and Tyrion fic? Does that mean that copyrights exist now and are mine? No. GRRM knew what he was doing when he claimed them for his own. Clever little bastard.**

Chapter Six: Your Song

"It's burned into my brain, Margaery! I can't stop seeing it!"

"Did you walk in on Loras and Renly in the supply closet again?"

"No," Sansa said. She peered around the copy machine she was perched behind furtively. "It was worse, so much worse! I was just going to ask about our lunch plans and did not expect that when I opened the door!"

"Who's? Tyrion's? Why? What was he doing?"

"He had a woman in his office!"

"Doesn't he usually?"

"Not naked and wrapped around him and in the throes of ecstasy!"

"I can't believe he didn't lock his door."

"I can't believe he was doing it at all!"

"Sounds like you are a little more upset than a 'friend' would be."

"Oh stop. I just don't need to go into his office and see his… you know!"

"Is he huge? I've had lots of girls tell me the dwarf thing will fool you."

"I don't know why I called you," she said, ending the call. She peered around the machine again before moving stealthily across the office floor, not seeing the short man leaning against a cubicle wall.

"Are we going to discuss this like adults or sneak around like children?" She jumped, her hand flying to clutch her heart.

"I just saw you nude," she whispered.

"Do you normally sneak around office equipment," he drawled.

"Do you normally go at it on your desk," she retorted.

"Touché." He stared at her for a moment before sighing.

"That was not something I wanted you to be subjected to. I'm sorry."

"Thank you," she said quietly. "Also, it's called a lock." He laughed and she smiled.

"Now, putting that whole… experience behind us, are you busy tonight?"

"No," she said slowly.

"Oh good! I'll pick you up at seven!"

"For what?"

"A night out."

"Like… a date?"

"Please, I would never presume you to have such low standards or to be so hard up for company as to go on a date with me. This is a night out as friends."

"Okay. I'm allergic to shellfish, I hate karaoke and I refuse to get intoxicated."

"Deal," he agreed. "I'll pick you up at seven." He walked away and Sansa noticed how many people were watching them. She flushed and fled to her office.

She hadn't been joking when she told Margaery the image was burned into her head. As she showered and got dressed, she tried to ignore the look on his face. He'd seemed so carefree, so loose. Normally, he was so tense, under constant pressure from his family.

"Stop it, Sansa!" She berated herself for the ninth time. She pulled her dress on and considered herself in the mirror. Unsure of what tonight's activities might entail, she had gone with a simple green sundress, leaving her hair to curl around her shoulders. She wondered if this was nice enough… no! This wasn't a date. She wasn't interested in Tyrion that way. He could sleep with whoever he wanted, though preferably behind locked doors.

Her doorbell rand and she took one final breath before grabbing her cardigan and heading for the door. She opened it, revealing Tyrion dressed casually in dark jeans and a blue button down shirt rolled up to his elbows.

"Hello, Sansa. You look lovely."

"Thanks. Shall we go?" She asked, attempting not to focus on how his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

"Shall we," he asked, stepping aside and gesturing to the elevator down the hall. Sansa closed and locked her door before they began to walk away.

"So what are we doing?"

"That is a surprise."

"Why? You're taking me to a karaoke bar, aren't you?" She demanded suspiciously.

"No, I've got a little more respect for you than that."

"Enough respect to tell me where we're going?"

"Enough respect not to," he countered. She made a face at him behind his back. "And don't cross your eyes it is most unbecoming." She laughed and they entered the elevator. Sansa felt herself growing hot as every crazy fantasy Margaery had shared about men in elevators came to the forefront of her mind. She tried to avoid looking at Tyrion but found herself glancing at him more often than she wasn't. His hair was laying in its usual haphazard fashion only how Sansa wondered what it would be like to touch it. Was it really as silky as she imagined? Would he moan if she pulled on it? If she grabbed it and pulled his to hers, pressing-

"Are you alright?" She broke out her reverie and her eyes snapped to his. "You're flushed. Do you get dizzy in elevators?"

"N-no. I just… got a head rush," she said faintly.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fine. So you can't tell me where we're going or what we're doing. Did I at least dress appropriately or are you going to end up staring up my dress while we rock climb?" She teased.

"Now, there's a plan," Tyrion mused. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because you respect me too much," she deadpanned. He laughed loudly and held the door of a town car for her. She waited expectantly for him to tell the driver where to go but he already seemed to have his instructions. They began to drive, the city passing by slowly.

"I forgot to ask how brunch was with your family," he said after a few minutes.

"It was actually quite unusual. Robb announced that he and Talisa are going to have a baby."

"That is exciting. Was everyone happy about the new addition?"

"Yes… though mostly because the two other announcements were somewhat less than pleasing."

"Oh?"

"So, Jon brought a woman with him. Her name is Ygritte. They've only been dating a few months but Jon told us that they're getting married… in two months."

"Are you serious? Is _he_ serious?"

"Apparently. She's… she seems nice enough but she comes from a rough family. A lot of women in and out of the home and her dad is an alcoholic. So she's pretty rough but she and Jon seem happy together."

"Well, I guess that's something. You said two; what was the other one?"

"Well, Arya, who just graduated high school, brought a boy to dinner. A boy we've never met."

"She didn't," he said.

"She did. His name is Gendry. He's a mechanic. And not only did we just met him, we found out they're moving in together."

"How do your parents feel about it?"

"Mother is not pleased. Dad… well, dad was upset but Arya talked him around, just like she normally does."

"Is she his favorite?"

"I don't know if I'd say that he has favorites. It's more like he loves each of us for different reasons. Arya is and always has been a rebel. She's got spirit and gumption and she's always stood her ground. And he respects that."

"So what about you?"

"Dad respects me because of my work ethic. He and my mom haven't had to pay for anything for me since I was fourteen. I got a job at a local shop prepping their merchandise for sale so that I could buy my own car. When I turned sixteen I had enough saved for a car and a prom dress. I paid for my own braces. As soon as I'd graduated I went to university. I had a semester and a half of credits from advanced placement and I chose a good program."

"Why risk assessment?"

"That's a long story."

"This is going to be a long drive."

"Okay, well my dad is a very fair man but a lot of people think they can take advantage of him. My uncle approached him with some sort of pyramid scheme. My dad warned him to get out of it but he wouldn't. He lost everything. My dad didn't have to but he helped pull him out of debt. I never wanted to have to go to my parents and ask for money. So I chose risk analysis because all you're doing is using the common sense and instincts that keep you out of trouble."

"How very practical of you. And working for Westeros? I doubt you're the kind to approve of nepotism."

"I'm not. I applied under a different name."

"And they hired you because you're that good. Impressive."

"Thank you. What about you? Liaison is a field of public relations, isn't it?"

"Technically, yes. Though I don't have a degree in PR."

"Really?"

"No. My father insisted I take a position in the company and my ability to talk to anyone allows me to get to know a lot of people. So he killed two birds with one dwarf."

"So if you don't a degree in PR, what is your degree in?"

"Believe it or not, education."

"Like a teacher?"

"Exactly so. When I first graduated with my degree, I taught high school English and history."

"Really?"

"Yes. I loved it. Even the kids who would goof off found some interest in my lessons. It was fulfilling work."

"Why did you stop?"

"My father terminated my employment after I refused to work here. After all that it was comply or starve. I still hate him for it."

"That's horrible. I might beat my father if he tried that."

"You're also taller than I am," he joked.

"He'd never see you coming," she teased.

"True. Oh good, we're here," he said and Sansa looked out her window and gasped.

"Oh my goodness," she breathed.

"Ready," Tyrion asked. She nodded mutely.

This might just be a date.


	7. Wanted

**I'M SORRY I'M SO LATE! **

**I did put some nice breath stealing moments in though, so don't be too mad. Please?**

**The song for this chapter is Wanted by Boyce Avenue. I have about a billion covers of this song but I think that they got the mood right. **

**As always, you can connect with me! And now on Tumblr too! ****  
****Twitter: teamdemonmonkey****  
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**Disclaimer: A modern Sansa and Tyrion fic? Does that mean that copyrights exist now and are mine? No. GRRM knew what he was doing when he claimed them for his own. Clever little bastard.**

Chapter Seven: Wanted

Christmas lights wrapped around old fencing and lamp posts all leading to a small stone cottage where she could see a fire glowing merrily in the fireplace.

"Where are we?"

"My country cottage. For when I want to escape and not be found," Tyrion offered.

"It's beautiful," she murmured. He helped her from the car and led her up the front steps to the door, pushing it open. She entered, immediately falling in love with the warm cream walls and charming stone and woodwork. Lamps glowed softly and she found herself falling more and more in love with it as Tyrion led her further in. They ended in a cozy sitting room. To one side the fire crackled in a stacked stone fireplace. In front of them, a large television was queued up but silent.

"This place is amazing," she said, running her fingers over the smooth wood trim.

"Thank you. I've spent a lot of time turning it into a sanctuary."

"So what movie is it tonight?"

"Clever," he noted and she grinned. "Your Cary Grant education is at an end. This is our last movie."

"Really?" She asked, hiding her disappointment.

"I'm afraid so. But I saved my very favorite for last. But first, dinner." He led her to a kitchen that she immediately fell madly and permanently in love with. The walls were covered in shelves with various cooking supplies spread on them while knotty alder cabinets supported a black granite countertop. She sat at the small table and watched as Tyrion grabbed plates, dishing up their dinner before bringing it to her, followed by a glass of wine.

"What is this," she asked, impressed with the delicious smells wafting towards her.

"Butter chicken with buttered naan and basmati rice," he said and began to eat. Sansa tasted it delicately and moaned. She opened her eyes to find Tyrion staring at her, a hunger in his eyes that she was sure had nothing to do with food and that sent warmth racing through her veins. She cleared her throat and took a generous gulp of her wine.

"It's delicious," she said, mentally kicking herself. They were just friends! Good friends, but she hardly wanted to slip into bed with him. Especially after seeing him getting it on against his desk. "So what movie is it tonight," she asked, clearing her throat to dissipate the sudden thickness.

"_An Affair to Remember_," Tyrion said fondly.

"And why is it your favorite?"

"It's… elegant. It's all about misunderstandings and pride and the inevitability of being with the love of your life. It's also about loving someone, no matter what."

"It sounds like you saved the best for last," she teased.

"I did. I wanted to make sure you finished your education with the best movie Cary Grant ever made."

"Shall we turn it on then?" They moved over to the television and Tyrion topped off their wine glasses before pressing play.

"I know this music," Sansa said after a moment. "Is this the movie they reference in _Sleepless in Seattle_?"

"Yes. Though this is infinitely better."

"I've always loved this score," she breathed. "It sounds like what love is. Beautiful and melancholy and melodic."

"I do, too," he said, watching a blush warm her cheeks. He watched her throughout the film, eyes moving between the screen and her face, relishing in the rapt fascination. At the end, he offered her a handkerchief. She took it, wiping her eyes and cheeks while sniffing furiously.

"That was beautiful," she whispered, wiping fresh tears from her face.

"Now you know why it's my favorite."

"Why didn't she just tell him?"

"Because she was proud. She didn't want to be a burden. It's actually a common problem for cripples."

"Here's your handkerchief. Sorry I got it wet."

"Sorry I made you cry," he teased. They sat in silence.

"Now what," she said.

"More wine," Tyrion offered.

~~~~~~~~~SIN~~~~~~~~~~~

"Most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you?"

"My birth," Tyrion deadpanned. Sansa rolled her eyes and pushed him.

"Seriously. This is supposed to be fun."

"Okay, okay. When I was seventeen, I really liked this girl at our prep school. Pamela Johnson. She was beautiful. I finally worked up the courage to ask her out. Surprisingly, she said yes. I was ecstatic. I arranged for a whole candlelit dinner on my yacht. During dinner, she excused herself to the bathroom and then jumped ship."

"No!"

"Yes! The next day she told everyone I had kidnapped her and she barely escaped but only because I couldn't swim. I had the cops called on me twice."

"That's horrible," Sansa commiserated.

"Your turn," he said, taking a gulp of wine. She blushed and he noted how attractive she was in the soft glow of the Christmas lights and candles.

"Well, I was seventeen, too. I had gym for my last period. I wasn't extremely social in school and there were people who hated me just because of things my father had done. So, during gym some girls pushed me in the mud. It was everywhere! I showered, naturally. But during my shower these girls took my clothes. And I don't know if I had a mental break or what but I just became irrationally angry. So I marched out of the locker room where I was sure they were waiting… and ended up facing the entire student body in nothing but a towel."

"What?!"

"Yeah, there was a pep rally which I had completely blanked. I got sat down by the principal and for the rest of the year, everyone called me Sansa Stark Naked."

"That's much funnier than my story," he said chuckling.

"I suppose. I got my payback though."

"How?"

"I paid someone to stuff their lockers with sheep dung."

"You did… what?"

"Sheep dung. Their faces! They opened them all at the same time, talking about some guy. It fell all over them. Totally got me money's worth."

"Why… why sheep dung?"

"Because they were mindless sheep, following whatever style and fashion dictated."

"And they didn't link it back to you?"

"Are you kidding? These girls humiliated half the school population on a daily basis. Anyone could have done it. And I had no previous record."

"That is absolutely genius!"

"Thank you."

"So nothing but a towel," he asked after a moment.

"Pervert," she accused good naturedly.

"Have I ever given any reason to believe the contrary?"

"Well, I thought you had amazing control."

"Amazing but I'm not a saint." He snorted as she began to laugh.

"Oh Lord, can you imagine? Tyrion, patron saint of tits and wine."

"Speaking of wine," he said, tipping their empty wine bottle upside down. "We've finished our last bottle."

"No," she whined.

"I'm sorry, but it's true."

"Now what shall we do?" They stared at each other. Sansa's heart began to pound furiously as Tyrion's eyes darkened. He leaned in, eyes flying between her eyes and lips. Her breathing hitched as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. His kiss was gently, exploratory but forceful enough that she wondered if he's imagined this, wanted it as much as she had. He pulled back and looked at her hesitantly. She watched his tongue move over his lips before she launched her face toward his and locked him in a passionate embrace. His arms came up to lock her body to his while their tongues tangled in a wrestling match. He pulled her bottom lip between his teeth and she gasped and moaned.

"Sansa," he gasped out as she moved her mouth up his neck before nibbling breathily on his ear lobe. His arms tightened around her and yet the feeling of overwhelming –and frankly unacceptable –distance remained. She moved back down his neck to move her lips along the rough stubble of his jaw. When her teasing became too much, he captured her lips and spent his sweet time hungrily dominating her mouth with his own.

"Tyrion," she breathed and he felt his heart stutter. Her words calmed him and he slowed down, moving his lips over hers languidly, the urgency of moments before fading.

"Oh my sweet Sansa," he whispered and she gazed up at him, eyes wide and bright and her face was open, vulnerable. Tyrion understood that in this moment, Sansa was offering anything to him, exposing herself for rejection and humiliation. He leaned down and pressed his lips softly to her forehead. "I care far too much for you to treat you like just another careless fling. I want you… oh, how I want you! But I want more than just an amazing night and months or years of awkwardness and avoidance. And if you continue kissing me like that, I won't be able to say no."

"So then what do we do?" He clenched his eyes shut and took a breath at the roughness of her voice.

"I take you home," he said and he could see the disappointment in her face. "And then I pick you up for work tomorrow." Her eyes flew up to meet his. "And we have lunch. And then after work, I'm taking you out to dinner. Properly."

"Like a date," she asked, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. He grinned at her.

"Yes," he said. "Exactly like a date. In fact, it _is_ a date." She beamed at him and he felt himself being drawn in and warmed by her smile, the brilliance of her face beckoning him until he was pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

"It's a date," she whispered after they broke apart and Tyrion swore his heart left his body and floated airily amongst the stars.


	8. The Cave

**Sorry for the delay folks. I had a block on this chapter. I wanted to do the date. I wanted to do both of them meeting her family. I wanted to do a random Joffrey's evil plotting chapter. This finally just poured out of me. Yay! And there's another chapter half finished! **

**The song for this chapter is The Cave by Mumford and Sons. It was this or Broken Crown and that's so angry! Which I sort of loved. **

**As always, connect with me!  
Twitter: teamdemonmonkey  
Facebook: teamdemonmonkey fanfiction**

**Disclaimer: A modern Sansa and Tyrion fic? Does that mean that copyrights exist now and are mine? No. GRRM knew what he was doing when he claimed them for his own. Clever little bastard. **

Chapter Eight: The Cave

It was only brunch. She could handle this.

Just brunch. With her family.

Sansa felt her heart begin to pound anew and dread coat her throat thickly. She'd been regretting this day for two weeks now. Saturdays used to be her favorite; no work, a chance to see her family. Now though, after making it official with…

Tyrion.

Her family was not going to understand. They hated the Lannisters with a requited passion. But Tyrion wasn't like his family. It seemed irrational to hate someone based on who his family was. And Tyrion was… wonderful. He'd supported and coaxed her out of her shell and made her feel alive and precious and _loved_. Was it too much to hope her family would focus on that and be understanding?

Probably.

Knowing she couldn't put it off any longer, she climbed out of her car, feeling very much like a sheep entering the slaughter house. She climbed the steps to the front door and took a deep, steadying breath before opening it. She toed off her shoes once inside and set her purse on a bench. She moved slowly down the hall, hearing her family laughing and talking. Where once she found comfort in the sound, today she was nauseous and reticent at reaching the kitchen.

"Finally!" She turned to the left and saw Arya slipping out of the bathroom. "You're here. I've been waiting for you. Don't think I've forgiven you for bailing last week either. I was hoping you'd keep Mom and Dad distracted from interrogating Gendry again. He wouldn't even come today, in case you skipped again." Sansa sighed, releasing the expectant breath she'd been holding. Maybe her family didn't know yet.

"Sorry. If I'd known, I would've texted you."

"Just don't miss again," Arya warned. "I know they're not happy about Gendry and me, but he makes me happy. Isn't that what's most important? Sansa? Are you okay?" She realized she'd frozen her muscles at her sister's statement.

"I –I do think that's what's important," she said quietly. If anything, she'd have an ally in her sister. They walked to the kitchen and Sansa braced herself before entering the room.

"Sansa's here," Arya announced before hopping onto the counter. Her mother turned and smiled at her warmly.

"Sansa! We missed you last week." Sansa moved forward, hugging her mom and trying to relax.

"Sorry, Mom," she said, eyes darting around the kitchen for her father or eldest brother, the two most likely to know about Tyrion and to have a problem with it.

"Hey, Sansa," Talisa said from the oven, pulling out muffins. "How is work going?"

"It's absolute torture, but I'm surviving," she said, working to sound nonchalant. _Please don't bring up Tyrion_, she thought desperately. "How's that little Stark doing?"

"Great. I feel like if I blink, he'll be here."

"So it's a boy?"  
"_I_ think so but Robb wants a little princess to spoil. We don't find out for a few weeks though."

"Sansa!" Rickon ran into the room and threw himself on his sister. "Robb said you wouldn't come again but I'm so happy you did! I missed you!"

"I missed you too, squirt. Where's Bran?"

"He's playing video games in his room."

"Honey, would you tell him to come down please," Catelyn asked Rickon as she brushed flour from her cheek. "We're ready to eat." Rickon ran upstairs, shouting Bran's name as he went. "Sansa, darling, would you grab the fruit? Arya get the juice."

"Oh so Sansa gets asked nicely," Arya teased, hopping off the counter. They followed Talisa into the dining room, setting the food on the already laden table.

"Ned! Bring those boys in, it's time to eat," her mom called down the hall. Sansa took her seat, heavy anxiety making it harder to breathe. Her father entered, still talking animatedly to Robb while Jon and Ygritte followed in a more subdued manner.

"Hello, Sansa," Ned said, bestowing a kiss on her head in passing.

"Hey, Dad," she said. She watched Robb sit and stare at her calculatingly. Jon helped Ygritte into her seat and then sat between her and Sansa. He leaned over to her ear.

"Robb told Dad," he whispered and she tensed.

"Was he angry," she asked under her breath.

"Angry isn't a strong enough word, San," he warned quietly.

Crap.

Once everyone was seated, Ned prayed over the food and everyone began dishing up. Sansa's movements were mechanical as she waited for her father to bring it up. It didn't take long.

"Arya, where's Gendry today," Ned asked innocently.

"Well after the third degree you all gave him last weekend, it seemed prudent for him to stay home," Arya said pointedly. She'd never been ashamed to call her father out.

"What third degree? We were just trying to get to know him," Ned said, smirking at Robb who grinned back wolfishly.

"Today, we'll ask Ygritte maybe," Robb suggested.

"Do it and die," Jon warned quietly.

"Relax," Robb drawled.

"Why are you so worried? Haven't you chosen to bring them home? You can't blame your father for wanting to know who his children are seeing," he said, eyes resting meaningfully on Sansa. Her stomach clenched. "Sansa," he said with forced pleasantness. "What about you?"

"What about me what?" His face hardened.

"Don't play games with me, girl. Your brother tells me that you've been spending a lot of time with Tyrion Lannister," he bit out. The table grew still and silent as everyone's eyes turned to her.

"And how, pray tell, would Robb even know such a thing," she asked with forced calmness, glaring at her brother.

"Your brother keeping tabs on you is only responsible."

"Spying on me, you mean," she accused.

"It's for your own good," Robb argued.

"I'm an adult! I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions, including who I spend my time with."

"So you admit that you've been seeing him! You've been cavorting around with the Imp!"

"Don't you dare call him that," she warned angrily.

"Enough!" Ned waited until his two children were looking at him. "Sansa, your brother was being smart. Lannisters cannot be trusted."

"So I should judge him based only on the actions of his family? Though he is hated and belittled by his own blood?"

"He's playing you," Ned growled. "This is some trick of his father or sister's to distract you from the job you are there to do."

"Have you even met Tyrion?"

"That's irrelevant. He's-"

"Have. You. Met. Him?" Sansa challenged.

"I don't need to meet him to know-"

"Unbelievable. I can't believe I'm being subjected to the narrow minded judgments and accusations of a man who relies solely on gossip and spies on his own daughter!"

"That's enough! You will not come into this house and insult the very people trying to protect you!"

"Protect me? Control me! You only allow me to work at _your_ company. You only give me assignments that keep me in the office. You have me followed! And for someone who balks at having the truth of his actions and their less than palatable consequences, this should be the cherry on top! You have been rude, disrespectful and a complete ass to the people your children have brought to this house to meet you. You've bulled and intimidated those who your children have brought to you for your blessing!"

"Stop," he said angrily.

"Gendry has done nothing to earn your ire, has treated your daughter with nothing but love and respect and reverence, yet you treat him like a criminal to the point where he won't even come here! You make snide comments about Ygritte's childhood misfortunes and lack of family when she deserves your sympathy and acceptance!"

"No more, Sansa," he warned. But her blood was boiling and she was filled with an enraged righteousness.

"And yes, _Father_, I'm seeing Tyrion Lannister! I've been seeing him and I will continue to see him. He is kind and gentle and generous to a fault. He treats me like I'm precious and unique and a priceless gem. And I didn't bring him to meet you all because I knew this is what would greet him! He'd be sacrificed to a pack of bigoted, pretentious, boorish wolves!"

"That is enough," he father roared, jumping to his feet. "You will end this nonsense, Sansa. Tyrion Lannister is no good. I will tell Robert that you can no longer work at _Stag_ and you will come home. And you will _never_ speak to me as you just have or you will no longer be welcome in this house. Do you understand me?"

"Are you really sure you want to give me ultimatums," she asked, the challenge in her soft tone obvious.

"Do not challenge me, Sansa. I will not tolerate this." The room was absolutely silent. She stood, sett4ing her napkin on her chair before turning and walking towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" She stopped and turned, a cold, cynical smile on her lips and eyes dead as they landed on her now estranged father.

"It would appear that I am no longer welcome here," she said simply. Then she turned and left the house, Ned's angry should following her out. Only after she was safely in her car and moving away did she allow tears to slip down her cheeks. She pulled her cell phone from her purse shakily and hit the contact of her last call.

"Hello," he answered hesitantly. She didn't blame. Brunch didn't end for another hour.

"Are you busy," she asked him with barely repressed sobs.

"Never too busy for you. Where are you?"

"I'm driving to your apartment."

"I'll be waiting," he said. She hung up and pressed harder on the accelerator, willing traffic to move aside, desperately seeking the comfort of the one person who could erase the heartache that was engulfing her more and more by the second.


	9. Home with Dirty Paws

**Hey you guys got lucky. I'm on a streak. No promises about how long it will last. But I'm just feeling it. And I didn't get to see the premiere so no spoilers. I just know there's a flashback of Cersei. Let's not spoil it for the monkey or you might find out why they call me demon. Just so you know, THIS CHAPTER IS PERFECT!**

**The song for this chapter is Home/Dirty Paws by the Gardiner Sisters. They are fantastic girls and I love both of these songs! It was just… perfect. I could see the entire thing in my head listening to it (which is the goal). **

**As always, connect with me!  
Twitter: teamdemonmonkey  
Facebook: teamdemonmonkey fanfiction**

**Disclaimer: A modern Sansa and Tyrion fic? Does that mean that copyrights exist now and are mine? No. GRRM knew what he was doing when he claimed them for his own. Clever little bastard. **

Chapter Nine: Home with Dirty Paws

"What happened," Tyrion asked after Sansa had kicked off her shoes and ensconced herself in his arms on the couch. She wiped her tears away furiously and sniffed.

"Robb was spying on me," she said, her anger making the tears come harder. "He told my father about us and he… he just… he doesn't even know you," she sobbed sadly. "He's never met you but he kept telling me how awful you are and how it's all just a game."

"Well, you've met my family. Can you blame him," he teased, hiding his disappointment in her family and hating them for hurting her.

"But you aren't like your family!"

"No, I'm not," he admitted gently, stroking his fingers through her hair methodically, marveling in the brilliant fire he could hold in his hand without getting burned. "What happened next?"

"We argued. I accused him of bullying anyone we bring home to meet him. I called him an ass," she said with a watery chuckle and he felt his heart swell uncomfortably in his chest at her bravery. "He told me he was going to tell Uncle Robert that I couldn't stay at _Stag_ and that I was going to come home and stop seeing you," she muttered and he could hear the heartbreak in her tone at the thought, echoing the ache in his chest at the thought of never seeing her again. "He told me that if I argued, I could leave and not come back."

"And you left." It wasn't a question but she could hear the disbelief in his voice.

"What choice did I have, Tyrion? I won't let him control my life," she said, her voice filled with stubborn determination. "And I won't lose you," she said softly, placing her hand to his cheek tenderly. He kissed her softly, tasting the salty reside her tears had left and hating her father even more for putting it there, for alienating his daughter because of pride.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said against her forehead before placing a soft kiss there. She rested against his chest and sighed.

"It's better now that you're here," she whispered and he felt like his heart was too big for his chest. They sat in comfortable silence until her phone ringing broke their peace. She grabbed it from her purse in the hall and frowned at the screen.

"Who is it? Your father?"

"No, it's… it's Arya," she said before accepting the call and putting the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

"First things first: are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Good because you are my hero! Seriously, I know we argue a lot and pretend to hate each other but I have never loved you so much as I do after this morning."

"Arya, it's really not-"

"No, don't hang up! Where are you?"

"Why?"

"Relax, after you left I told dad to shove it up his ass and followed you out. I need to see you're okay and I'd like to talk to you."

"I'm at Tyrion's."

"Okay. Give me the address." Sansa rattled off his address while he watched guardedly from the couch, not wanting to interfere but worrying nonetheless. "We'll be there in a bit." Sansa stared at her phone as her sister hung up.

"What did she say," Tyrion asked, curious but willing to let her process everything going on.

"She's… she's coming over."

"Now?"

"Yeah. I guess you get to meet my sister," she said with false cheeriness. Tyrion didn't know if he should be grateful or terrified.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SIN~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the doorbell rang, Sansa took a deep breath, looking at Tyrion and then smiling nervously. He chuckled at the half constipated expression and relaxed –which had been her goal. She moved down the hall and opened the door, not prepared for what met her on the other side.

"Jon? Gendry?" Arya shoved past them, engulfing Sansa in the biggest hug they'd ever shared. She let go and moved in, letting Jon and Gendry get closer. Gendry –not usually one for physical displays of affection with his girlfriend's family –engulfed her in a hug.

"Thank you for standing up for us this morning," he said fervently in her ear. "I'm happy Arya has you for a sister."

"Um, you're… welcome?" Sansa patted him on the back and he let go and smiled, a blush coloring his cheeks before taking Arya's hand behind her. She turned to Jon and looked at him uncertainly. "I hope Ygritte didn't mind my speaking for her. I know she doesn't like to talk about life… before." He shook his head and she waited for a reprimand but instead he pulled her into his arms and held her close. She and Jon had a nice enough relationship but they'd never been particularly close. This was the first real show of affection he'd ever demonstrated. She put her arms around his neck and took a bracing breath to staunch the ever ready flow of tears.

"She's grateful. She wouldn't… she never wanted to make trouble for me. She kept it all to herself but she used to cry when we got home. She says to tell you thank you for championing for her –and Gendry. I know that we've never… been… close. But I sincerely appreciate you caring enough to stand up for us."

"Well, thanks for the heads up about Dad," she said, ushering him inside. They followed her down the hall to the living room where Tyrion was trying to stay inconspicuous by reading a book. Sansa almost laughed at him but chose instead to collapse next to him and place a kiss to his cheek.

"Guys, this is Tyrion. Tyrion, this is my sister, Arya; her boyfriend, Gendry, and my brother Jon." Arya plopped onto his other side and turned to give him an assessing look.

"So you're Tyrion Lannister," she said.

"That's me," he said genially.

"And you love my sister," she said, voice still even and unreadable.

"Arya, he doesn't-" Sansa started to say, mortified that her sister was demanding a declaration of his affection that she hadn't even asked for yet. He placed his hand on hers.

"Sansa, it's fine," he said and then turned back to Arya. "I do love your sister. More than I've ever loved anyone in my life." Sansa flushed bright pink and felt her skin heat at his words. Arya's mouth twitched and then she smiled.

"I think I like you, Tyrion," she said then her face hardened. "If you hurt her, I will maim you and make it look like an accident," she threatened.

"Oh, gods," Sansa muttered, hiding her face.

"Fair enough," Tyrion said, unflustered by her sister's threats. Gendry sat next to Arya and Jon took a seat across from them.

"So what happened after I left," Sansa asked unenthusiastically.

"Yeah I was wondering the same thing," Arya said, turning to Jon. He shrugged.

"Dad yelled for about three minutes then he got up and left. He locked himself in his study and wouldn't come out. Mom thinks he was making a bunch of calls, maybe to Robert. Robb tried to engage me in a conversation about you two but I told him we had to go. I feel bad for Talisa, though. She looked so uncomfortable with some of the things he was saying, but she's so quiet, you know? Bran and Rickon are confused. They don't really have anything to do with the business so they don't understand yet about Dad's prejudice against… your family," he said, looking awkwardly at Tyrion. Tyrion waved a hand dismissively.

"If I had a nickel for every time someone insulted my family, I'd be rich. Well not really. I'd mostly be paying myself." They laughed and he turned to see Sansa smiling at him gratefully. He kissed her hand and then turned to Jon.

"Do you know if Robert is going to make Sansa leave _Stag_? If she wants to go on her own, I have no objections. But I won't have her put back under your brother's thumb for safekeeping."

"I hadn't heard definitively yet. I heard Dad yelling in his study and it sounded like Robert wasn't agreeing. But I don't know. I'd keep away from the family for a while, though. All of you," he said, looking at them seriously. "Dad wasn't joking. Mom doesn't seem to agree but she won't start a fight with him. And Robb is just as incensed at him. Rickon and Bran don't care either way but there's no way to see them without getting involved with Mom and Dad." Sansa nodded sadly, staring at her hands.

"Are you sure you want to burn this bridge," Tyrion asked her quietly. She met his eyes, saw the fear there that she would deem him unworthy and abandon him. Her face softened.

"I didn't set the bridge on fire," she asserted. "I just chose which side I wanted to stand on when it went up in flames. I'm not going anywhere," she promised.

"It's your home though. They're your family," he insisted, worried that she was still too riled at her father to see the extent of the consequences.

"Home is wherever I'm with you," she whispered and he knew in that moment that this woman had his heart completely for his entire life. He placed a kiss to her lips and they broke apart laughing as Arya made gagging sounds behind them. "Besides, I've still got family." Arya, Gendry and Jon beamed at her. "Wednesday night dinners at my place from now on," she offered and they all agreed enthusiastically.

"Well, we have to get going. Gendry's got work in the morning," Arya said standing.

"I promised Ygritte I'd be home before she went to bed," Jon added. Sansa and Tyrion followed them to the door.

"You're a pretty cool guy, Tyrion," Arya said and Tyrion laughed.

"I try." They said their goodbyes and Sansa and Tyrion were finally left alone. She followed him back to the couch.

"There's just one thing I'm still confused about," she admitted.

"What's that," he said distractedly, eyes already moving over the pages of his book.

"Well, you told my sister that you loved me," she uttered quietly and he stilled. "I guess I was wondering if you meant that." He turned his eyes to hers quickly, amused to find her avoiding eye contact. He placed his book on the table and turned, taking both of her hands in his.

"I meant every single word. Why? Do you not love me? It's okay if you don't." She laughed and he braced himself for rejection.

"I wouldn't insult my father, estrange myself from my family and come running here to you if I didn't. I love you so much that I can't even articulate the depth of my emotion. It's frustrating, being unable to tell you in words that will do the depth of my ardor justice." He laughed, pulling her to him and sealing his lips to hers in a passionate, exuberant kiss. She returned his passion with her own, wrapping her arms around his neck and moving so that she was straddling him.

"I love you," she gasped out, breaking the kiss and holding his face tenderly between her hands. "So much."

"I love you too, Wolf Girl," he whispered before claiming her mouth in a more subdued but no less affectionate kiss and feeling that if this moment last forever, he wouldn't have any complaints.


End file.
